Page 15 of Supernova

But every time her anger ran away with her, she gritted her teeth and reeled it back in. She didn’t need retribution right now. She needed time.

The elevator dinged and she squared her shoulders, dragging in a breath until it felt like her lungs would pop.

She was still holding it when the doors opened, revealing the small reception area outside the warehouse—Snapshot’s desk, as cluttered as ever, and the desk that was mostly Nova’s, as barren as ever.

Snapshot wasn’t there, and neither was Wonder Boy, as Nova had taken to calling Callum in her head.

She exhaled and moved toward the desk.

She wasn’t ready to see Callum, though she knew she would have to eventually. Not only because they worked together most days, but because she needed to pretend to pry him for information about Nightmare. It would require a careful dance. Letting him know about Adrian’s suspicions, leading him to believe that, yes, Nightmare might be a spy in their midst, one who may even have had access to the vault. All while keeping his suspicions away from her.

She wasn’t sure she could pull it off. She’d gotten good at lying, but she didn’t know if she wasthatgood.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter today. Maybe she wouldn’t see him. Maybe she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye and force herself to smile, all the while remembering the moment when he had tried tostop her from taking the helmet and she had been forced to put him to sleep because of it.

She didn’t usually feel guilt when she used her power, especially on Renegades, but she did with Callum. He had used his power on her to make Nova see how maybe the world could be different. How maybe her life could be different, if she chose a different path. And the worst thing was knowing that it wasn’t Callum putting the thoughts into her mind; it was knowing that they’d been there all along.

And knowing that she wasn’t going to do anything about it.

When she had chosen to continue with her plan and take the helmet, it had felt like a betrayal of Callum and all his annoying goodness. It had also felt like a betrayal of some small part of herself. The part of herself that still sometimes dreamed of living a life without vengeance. A life where she and Adrian had a future. Maybe, even, a life of peace.

But that dream, she knew now as strongly as ever, would never be. The truth was closing in around her. Her lies couldn’t go on forever. Besides, peace and acceptance wouldn’t bring back the family she had lost.

No matter, she told herself, again and again. Taking the helmet was supposed to be the end of this charade. At the time, she was sure that she would never have to face Callum again—or Adrian, for that matter.

But nothing ever went according to plan, and now there were consequences. There were always consequences, and she couldn’t stop to think about it. She had to keep moving. Keep going through the motions. Lie. Steal. Betray.

Because that’s how she would free Ace.

That’s how she would destroy the Renegades.

That’s how she would end this ongoing battle in her thoughts. The war between Nightmare and Insomnia. Hero and villain. She had already made her choice.

Nova fell into the chair at her desk and woke up the computer. She opened a memorandum template and quickly typed up the note she’d already planned out in her head. She scanned the text when she was done and decided to add a small typo, because Tina, the director of the artifacts department, was always a little scatterbrained and it seemed more authentic that way.

After printing the page, Nova crossed to the second empty desk and grabbed a pen out of a coffee mug by the keyboard, one with purple ink and a giant purple daisy on its tip. She scrawled a signature across the bottom of the page.

Tina Lawrence

Snapshot

Director

Replacing the pen, she spent a moment riffling through the desk drawers, searching for the stamp Tina sometimes used for official documentation for the weapons and artifacts department.

She had gone through every drawer twice before she gave up with a growl, slamming the final drawer shut. Exhaling, she inspected the clutter on top of the desk more closely, but there was no stamp.

With the paper in one hand, she headed into the filing room. She hadn’t taken two steps inside before she spotted the stamp, left behind on a pile of empty manila folders.

“Honestly,” she muttered, marching over to the stack and slamming the stamp down on the memo beneath the forged signature. Setting it aside, she folded the sheet into crisp thirds.

“Hey, Nova.”

Heart launching into her throat, she cursed and spun around.

Callum started, too, surprised at her overreaction.

“Sweet rot, you scared me!”

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